Zero The Hero
by GlitterSonic
Summary: SPOILERS. Loki had a back-up plan at the end of the movie...and step one was abducting Tony Stark. While the rest of the team scrambles to find their friend, Loki prepares a new chapter of chaos, and first, it requires breaking an already damaged man.
1. Chapter 1

This fic seems to have sprang fully formed from my forehead like Athena from Zeus. Or something like that. Anyway, the title is taken from another Black Sabbath song...and the lyrics, well, they basically read like Loki's hate letter to the Avengers, but the title itself actually works to. You'll see.

Oh and in case you missed the note outside, _**HERE THERE BE SPOILERS**_. If you haven't seen the movie, well, what the hell are you waiting for, seriously? Go. GO NOW.

( )

The first thing Tony Stark was aware of was a fucking headache of oceanic magnitude.

Of course, when one was Tony Stark, that was hardly unusual. Between late night parties or fundraisers, excesses of alcohol, arguments with Pepper, and oh right, the occasional demigod headbutting you through a tree, headaches sort of came with the territory. That didn't make them any more pleasant, but it was a familiar devil, so easily dealt with. A count of ten, a slow opening of an eye to test the ambient light levels and determine whether or not it was safe to fully open both, and slow movements until equilibrium was well-balanced, and things were perfectly manageable.

Well, it wasn't very bright, so he went ahead and opened his eyes, but he didn't recognize where he was, either. Actually...to be fair, it didn't look like he was anywhere. He was laying sort of crossways on a comfortable bed, face down in a fluffy pillow, but he wasn't sure he was in a room, per se. He couldn't see any walls, though admittedly he couldn't see very far. The only illumination seemed to be coming from around him, and beyond was just pitch blackness.

"This is definitely not my room," he grumbled to himself, slowly pushing into an upright position, rubbing his head. Aside from the fact that there were apparently no walls, floor, or ceiling, he also almost never actually slept in his own room. Tony was far more used to waking up sprawled across a work table or on the floor with papers and design ideas spread everywhere. Even on those rare occasions that he did wake up in his bedroom, Pepper was there, and here she was clearly not. Yet more evidence that this was not a familiar place.

What the hell had even happened? He tried to place it. The fight with the Chitauri. Okay, yes. Confronting Loki at his apartment, out the window, new armor worked like a charm, aliens everywhere, a fucking ton of fighting, crawling down some alien worm's throat, the nuke...ugh, the nuke. He didn't completely remember what had happened there, one second he was in space, watching the most amazing explosion, the next he was getting bellowed at on the street while Hulk, Captain Boyscout and Thunderdome were standing over him. Clint and Natasha had found them on their way up to his penthouse, where apparently Hulk and Loki had been redecorating at some point. Then what?

...ah, yes. Loki. That son of a bitch had pulled his little switcheroo stunt. As soon as Steve and Thor had reached out to grab him, he'd gone disappearing into thin air. Natasha had royally flipped out because the Tesseract was still on the roof. He'd jumped out the window to go up there after Loki because flying was a hell of a lot faster than running up the stairs or waiting for Hulk to claw his way up. Didn't have his helmet on because apparently half of it had gotten torn off and it was too awkward to leave the shattered bits on, so of course the lanky bastard had aimed right for his head...he had some vague recollection of hitting the roof, Loki standing over him, Thor bellowing at him from the edge of the roof...and then...then...

...here. Crap. That was probably a bad sign. If the other Avengers had ended up with him, he'd be in his bedroom...assuming his bedroom was still intact...or at least somewhere recognizable _as _a room. So by that process of elimination, he had to assume that Loki had done something. Shit. Shit shit shit.

Okay, assess the situation. He wasn't wearing his armor, he could tell that. Felt like it was still his T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Strange pressure on his forearms, though, and a glance revealed what looked like bizarre green metal gauntlets. Didn't have an explanation for those just yet, move on to the next thing. Not having a heart attack, so arc reactor is intact. Area is cool, so probably not in Hell. No impendent noise, which is...weird. Ears ringingly silent. Not even the sound of wind.

So that's the situation. Reactions. Fear? Well, yes, but he didn't really care to deal with that. Move it aside. Anger? Maybe, depending on what happened next. Confusion, check. Alarm, check. Desire to leave? Abso-fucking-lutely check. That was a good emotion. He'd work with that one.

With a grunt, Tony pushed himself onto his hands and knees, then sat back, kneeling on the bed, glancing around again. Yep, place was still dark and creepy from this position. He really couldn't figure out where the light around him was coming from, seeing as how there wasn't a ceiling above him to support a light. And for that matter, as he scooted to the edge of the bed and looked down, he found himself not entirely convinced there was a floor. Clearly the bed had to be on something, logically, but if he were dealing with a situation of Loki's doing, logic had to be patted on the head and sent on it's way. He eyeballed the darkness below him with a fair bit of trepidation, then reached over, picking up one of the pillows, then casually dropped it. It landed next to the bed and stayed, as though landing on a floor. Good sign. He carefully eased a foot down, tapping at where the floor should be with a toe, and was satisfied to feel one. So carefully to his feet, next to the bed, and looking around.

The place was still inordinately creepy. Places that didn't obey the laws of science had a tendency towards that. Was everything just black? If that was the case...Tony crouched down, pulling his shirt up to expose the supposed floor to the light from the reactor. If there was a floor, even painted black, it would illuminate. Which it did not. So. That was weird. He tucked his shirt back down, rising to his feet and looking around again.

Well, what to do. For some reason, he didn't want to call out, to bring any attention to himself. So, the only other option would be to walk. So he did that. Hesitantly, feeling around with cautious steps to try and avoid stepping off into any horrible voids that might be hiding in the blackness, Tony moved forward, occasionally glancing backwards at the bed, which...didn't really seem to be getting any further away. At one point he simply turned his back to it and walked for a count of 100, but upon turning around, the bed was still there, less than five feet away.

This required testing. He moved back to the bed, crawling back onto it and kneeling again, before scooching off, walking around it. He could move around the bed at all sides, gaining a distance of about five feet in any direction, but then it stayed with him.

Normally, he'd be more puzzled about this, but since he'd just about accepted that this was the work of ye olde God of Mischief himself, it just irritated him. Tony stood and stared at the bed for a bit, sort of idly rubbing at his chin, running through a few dozens different scenarios in his mind. None of them offered any resolution he liked, so for the moment, he just had to wait. Not his favorite thing in the world. He shook his head, grumbling, but moved to sit on the bed, turning his attention instead to the bizarre metal bands on his forearms.

His initial assessment had been that they were green metal, which still held up to closer scrutiny, but that had been a woefully simplistic appraisal. They were tipped with gold strips on both ends, and fit snugly, but not painfully tight, with no apparent seam to show him how they went on or came off. An elaborate pattern was embossed on the surface, swirls and and angles that implied meaning, though he could make no sense of it. Both seemed identical if mirrored, at least on a side-by-side comparison.

Well, whatever they were, he didn't want them on. If they weren't his tech, he wanted no part of it. He gripped the left one in his right hand, starting to tug at it, trying to figure out how to remove it. Surely there had to be a button, or a catch, or something he just couldn't see...if he couldn't get them off, then how in the hell would anyone have gotten them _on _in the first place?

_Well, it's magic, Tony, isn't that sort of the problem?_

_Shut up, you, you don't know what you're talking about._

_Of course I do, I'm a genius, you self-absorbed douchebag. If you're here because of Loki, then pretty much all of this has to be magic._

_You're calling me a self-absorbed douchebag, you're just me in my own head, so you're only insulting yourself. Real genius there, buddy._

_Well, now you're doing it too, stupid, so what does that mean?_

_It means the god-awful horrible silence and desolation in this room has gotten to me and I'm going insane rather quickly, obviously._

_Good discernment. So what do I do about it?_

_First I get this stupid piece of magic crap off me, then...then...it's not coming off._

_No shit, Sherlock. Keep it up much longer and you're gonna rip your skin off._

Tony grunted, finally giving up on pulling the gauntlet off, wincing at the pain left over from the wrenching. He half-heartedly probed at the one on his right arm, but it was just like the other, so there was no help to be had there.

Okay, one more idea. He raised his arms up, shifting them a bit, then with as much force as he could muster, slammed the two bands together. There was a loud, dull clang, which was kind of expected, but far more alarming, the designs on them began to glow with a disgusting, lime green light, and the bizarre illumination that surrounded this area gained the same hue, casting everything over.

"Oh, shit." Tony immediately began clawing at the gauntlets, trying to figure out if maybe there was some sort of off button. "There is no chance this is going to end any way but badly."

Abruptly, the illumination was gone around him, leaving nothing but the faint glow of the bands and his arc reactor. Tony was on his feet in a second, looking around, the feel of any metal against his skin causing him to instinctively raise his arms and use his repulsors, although, clearly, that wasn't going to happen. He'd have felt stupid if he weren't too busy being freaked out.

Suddenly, the bands on his arms yanked him backwards with a force that surprisingly did _not _tear his arms right out of their sockets, as though something had grabbed them, and it was with a loud thud that he found himself flung into a large chair, practically a throne, that had definitely not been there a moment ago. His head cracked against the back of it, and for just a moment he saw stars...but he was still aware of the feel of the bracers on his arms yanking themselves against those of the chair, slamming down into them and holding firm. He began struggling immediately, trying to pry himself loose, but despite his efforts, he couldn't so much as budge the glowing metal.

Within just a second, he became aware of something that brought an end to his struggles, even though it really should have made him even more desperate to get away.

"And here you are, the great Tony Stark." He was aware of a sweep of movement just past him, a fluttering dark green and gold form, which confirmed all his worst fears about where he was and how he'd gotten here.

The supposed God of Mischief, such as he was, that ridiculous helmet gleaming in the faint light from the arc reactor, moved to stand in front of Tony, swirling about with the drama that Tony had come to expect from him...but Loki's face belied his melodramatic tendencies. His face was tight, bruised and battered (likely the result of what Hulk had done to him, and Tony couldn't keep the slight grin off his face at the thought), and his nostrils were flared; he was visibly seething. The trickster looked as though he were out of control of himself, a rabid dog that had chewed through it's chain, and Tony was the postman with a steak tied to his belt. He should have been scared..._more _scared, at least...but as always, his mouth was going before he could stop it.

"Well, don't you look like shit. I suppose that's what happens when the Hulk uses you to dig a kiddie pool in my sitting room. How's your back?"

Loki glared down at him, his hair wild and matted, his clothing tattered and filthy, looking as though he'd just been drug backwards through a bush on _fire_, still frothing with barely contained rage. Despite the obvious stupidity of the action, Tony felt compelled to keep needling him. "Well, I hope you've learned your lesson, young man. You should have just taken the drink, sat down, and waited for your brother to come pick you up, like a good boy, and none of this-,"

Gods were inhumanly fast, turned out. Before he could finish his jeering, Loki had lashed out, and with a hard crack, backhanded Tony hard enough that the man was sure he'd have been knocked completely out of the giant chair if not for the metal gauntlets apparently fastening him down. Again with the starry vision. He was going to be a master of knocked-the-fuck-out astronomy at this rate. It was too easy to forget that despite looking like a slimy little prick, Loki was still an Asgardian or at least something more than human, and he could punch holes in rock if he wanted to.

That had never stopped Tony before though. "Okay...well yeah, _that _was a mature response. Jesus, are you a toddler back in your world or-,"

_Oh God._Tony had just enough time to start to wince before another ridiculously hard slap hit the other side of his face, knocking his upper body sideways yet again. This time, though, Loki didn't stop with just the one hit...he lashed out, grabbing a handful of Tony's hair impossibly tightly, making the man feel as though he were going to be scalped, and began to rain down further smacks, forehand and backhand, indiscriminately striking out, faster with each, as though the very act of venting his fury also fueled it, a snarl just barely audible over the sound of the hits.

Tony wasn't entirely aware of that, though, at the moment the pain was enough of a distraction. Sure, he'd been slapped plenty of his times in his day, probably more than most, but they were single blows from scorned women after he'd said or done something stupid or insulting. This, this was different. This was like someone had managed to drop a couple pieces of neutron star into a glove and hit him in the head with it. To Loki, this beating was nothing more than a way to take out his frustrations on something smaller and weaker than himself, but Tony knew he already had a split lip and probably at least one black eye from it, and only the fact that he knew to clench his jaw shut against blows to the face was keeping it from getting knocked right off his head. That and the fact that he wouldn't give Loki the satisfaction were all that stopped him from crying out in pain, but he couldn't hold back the grunts and groans that slipped away unbidden.

After a thirty second eternity, Loki finally seemed to grow weary of his activity, and roughly shoved Tony's face away, turning and staring into the black distance, breathing hard, either from the exertion or the anger. Tony just tried to get his bearings back together after the unexpected assault, coughing a bit, hoping to God that wasn't a tooth that was spat out and clattered away, and sincerely planning to figure out how to kill Loki for it if it were...dentists were expensive. He wasn't able to find a missing one at the moment, but considering how badly his head was pounding, he wouldn't have been surprised if he missed it. That didn't feel to be the only damage, as he could already feel his left eye swelling and a few small dots of blood that trickled onto his shirt told him his lip was still bleeding. Probably not the _worst _beating he'd ever taken, but it was definitely the worst one that had been doled out by a single being.

Even now, panting for breath and slurring his words for a reason that for once had nothing to do with booze, Tony couldn't stop himself. "Feel...better...?" he wheezed out, turning what gaze he had back to the god of chaos. "You should know...I plan to ch-charge...for th-therapy sessions..."

Loki turned his gaze back to his captive, still glaring, still angry. "If I have left you any brains in your miserable excuse for a skull to allow cognitive thoughts, you will silence yourself immediately."

"Haa ha ha ha. Fuck you." Not his most brilliant retort, but at the moment, with his ears still ringing from pain, it was all he had.

Loki spun on him, and with a jerky twitch of his fingers, Tony found the bracers on his arms yanking him forward, as though there were invisible chains tied to them that Loki was manipulating. They raised a bit violently over his head, actually into the air, and left his toes barely scraping the ground, despite his struggles to pull free of them.

"If you will not silence yourself, I will do it for you." Loki moved closer, removing...something small and glowing, from beneath his cloak, holding it forward. "Believe it or not, _human_, I'm actually not fond of the notion of performing this action against another person."

"Then don't do it, it's really that simple," Tony responded, trying to ignore that his eye was very nearly swollen shut at this point and maintain an air of some control over the situation. "Anything you do at this point is all because you want to, hornhead."

Loki's anger almost seemed to cool at that, and the barest hint of what could have been a smirk turned up at his mouth. "I suppose you are right." He held up his hand, and Tony had just enough time to see that the glow in the god's hand looked the same as the one from the metal gauntlets, before abruptly Loki surged forward, crushing the bizarre metal over Tony's mouth, pressing hard enough to make Tony unwillingly yelp at the contact with his damaged lip. There was a momentary flash of a bizarre cold pain, and Loki pulled away, leaving Tony thrashing and trying to force away the sudden metal mask pressed over his lower face, sealing his mouth closed.

He didn't think that stopped Loki from knowing the string of horrible curses that were being directed at him, but unfortunately none of them came out as anything but angry mumbles. With another simple flick of his fingers, the pressure holding Tony up was released, and he fell to all fours on the ground, immediately reaching up to try and pry away the gag, but finding it flush with his skin, same as the bands on his arms, with no apparent explanation for what was holding it in place.

"Make something very clear to yourself now, human," Loki said, moving to stand just out of easy swipe range, glaring down at Tony. "I am in control here. The only reason you continue to draw breath is because I allow it. At any moment that you displease me, that mask will crawl over your face and leave you to suffocate here between worlds. Though I would prefer it, I do _not_ need you alive for what I have planned. In short...do _not_...push me."

Tony wanted to do more than push him. Bum-rush him into that tacky ass chair, beat his face in, and tear his eyeballs out, maybe follow that up by snapping all his fingers and toes in succession, and whatever he could figure out to follow that. But the faint glow still apparent on his restraints reminded him that he'd be stopped well before he could...even _if_ he could...the bizarre area he found himself in reminded him he was a long way from home with no idea how to get back, and overall he knew that at the moment, no matter how darkly he hated it, he was at the god's mercy. So he remained crouched warily on the ground, staring up at the bastard, trying not to think about the fact that now _he _was the enraged one, and Loki had regained his cool, smarmy disposition.

Funny how that worked.


	2. Chapter 2

Holy _**CRAP**_, the reviews, the adds, the faves, my INBOX, it SCREAMED. LOL

I, just, wow. Thank ya'll, I've...I hope I don't let anybody down with this chapter. Steve's a very hard POV character to me, at least at the moment, but I hope he turned out okay, heh. Read on, everyone, sorry for the long wait in updating, but, real life, what a bitch it be.

( )

"If it's all the same to you...I'll have that drink now."

Steve Rogers just barely managed not to roll his eyes. The battered "god" had managed to drag himself out of the hole Hulk had planted him in, though considering the shape he seemed to be in, Steve wondered how the heck he had managed it. The comment he made seemed to amuse Stark, who let out a little snort and glanced over his shoulder at the others, raising an eyebrow.

"Long story," was all he offered as explanation for the amusement.

Steve shook his head, looking to Thor and nodding to him. "Come on, let's get him."

The Asgardian seemed somewhat torn about the entire situation...made sense, considering Loki was his brother, and even though Thor was perfectly willing to fight him, he clearly hadn't wanted to. But Thor moved forward unerringly, Steve right beside him, each of them reaching out to grab hold of one of Loki's arms.

Steve very nearly fell flat on his face when, instead of getting a grasp on their pale antagonist, his hands passed straight _through _the man's arm. Thor's did the same thing, and upon this happening, the giant man's face fell as the image of Loki seemingly misted away into nothingness...and then his facial expression changed to one of untold frustration.

"Loki!" he bellowed, fingers tightening on his hammer to the point that Steve wondered for just a second whether or not he was able to break the weapon.

Natasha had been hanging back a bit, casually hanging onto Loki's scepter, but her knuckles whitened on it, a look that might have almost been panic coming to her face. "Guys...guys! The Tesseract is still on the roof with Dr. Selvig!"

_Oh geez-_was all Steve had time to think, before Stark was responding. "I've got him!" he called, turning and, with that explosive whine that accompanied them, the jets on his feet were fired and he was blasting towards the broken window, into the sky and shooting straight upwards. Hulk made some noise that just about sounded distressed, and before anyone could stop him, he was charging, lunging out to dig his fingers into the stony side of the building and clamber up.

There was absolutely no chance that Stark and Hulk together were the most stable pair to send after Loki, so Steve quickly nodded to Thor. "Go up after them," and then he turned to Barton and Natasha. "Stairs, where are the stairs?"

"This way!" Natasha answered, and she and Barton took off running, Steve right behind them. Behind them, he could hear the whooshing sound of Thor spinning his hammer in preparation to launch himself up after the other two, but ignored that as Natasha pointed to a door, and he didn't waste a second jumping up and ahead and kicking it open, landing still in a run, taking the stairs three and four at a time, swiftly outpacing the two assassins. He didn't have anything in mind beyond _Stop Loki, stop him, do not let him get the Tesseract again,_ rattling against the inside of his skull, but as he reached a door at the top of the stairs, nicely marked Roof Access, and kicked it open as well, he could hear the rather alarming sound of something large and metal crashing into stone, and the Hulk roaring, and Thor bellowing at his brother, and knew he'd better be prepared to think of a plan and quick.

The scene he emerged onto was bad. Dr. Selvig was fine, as fine as he could be, and huddled in fear behind the giant machine that the Tesseract was currently in. Loki wasn't near it, thank God, and Steve quickly scanned the area before seeing the man...and it was worse. He was knelt on the ground, teeth bared, looking like a wild animal hovering over a kill. He had Stark...oh God _no_, Loki had him, he was laid out on the ground, eyes shut, not moving, and Loki was crouched over him, one hand snarled in his hair and the other splayed over the circle of light in the middle of his chest, and Thor was at the edge of the roof, shouting for Loki to let him go, and Hulk was only a few feet away and barely holding back to keep from hurting Stark, howling inarticulate promises of violence at the man threatening his teammate, Barton and Natasha were still at least a flight below, and Steve didn't have much chance to access his options.

He did what he could do. Drew back the shield and pinwheeled it right for Loki's head. The angle was perfect, the spin was ideal, the speed would have shattered the skull of a normal human man...but he knew Loki was no normal human man, so he didn't hesitate to put every last bit of his enhanced strength into the launch. Best chance to stop the maniac before he could try to worm his way out again.

But Steve couldn't help but stare in shock when Loki casually dropped Stark's head, letting it thud against the concrete roof, and raised one hand, bringing his shield to a stop in the air, before flicking his fingers and launching it in the direction of Hulk, who took the weapon in the face and actually staggered backwards a few steps from it. He was rearing back up and roaring in fury again in a second, Thor and Steve moving as well, both charging forward, Steve knowing that both of them were going for Loki, so he shifted his attention to Stark, because if Steve could take him out of harm's way, Hulk and Thor would have free reign over their enemy. Better odds that way.

All of them missed their marks, though. Loki and Stark's images wavered away into mist, the way Loki's illusions did, leaving Thor and Hulk to crash into each other, and Steve's hands hit concrete instead of grabbing Stark's arm, leaving him kneeling there in complete befuddlement, which was quickly erased by a rapidly growing anxiety. _Oh no...no, no, no, no, not again, not again, _which was a strange thought, because, when had this happened before?

Hulk didn't leave him a lot of time to ponder over that, as the giant turned a confused gaze to the blank concrete, and immediately let out a roar of the most incomprehensible rage that Steve had ever heard in his life, drawing back and burying a green fist into the floor right in front of Steve, leaving him scrambling backwards to avoid the beast's tantrum. Thor was sprawled out on the ground a bit away, staring as well, but wasn't as inclined to avoid Hulk, seeing as he could more or less shrug off full blows from the beast.

"What...what happened?" Steve heard a breathless voice speak from behind him, as Hulk continued to pound futilely at the spot where Loki had been. Steve glanced backwards to see Barton and Natasha, who had managed to catch up, looking around in confusion. "Where's Loki?" she finished, looking down at him. "Where's Stark?"

Thor got to his feet with a grunt, moving forward to get in front of Hulk, who finally gave up on beating the answers he wanted out of the ground, and the green-skinned creature just stared at him a moment before slumping back, bracing on his knuckles, ape-like, looking over at them. "Puny god run away!" he spat out, and Steve knew he wasn't alone in being surprised that Hulk was actively _speaking_ to them, though he felt he probably did the best job of hiding it. "Puny god steal Tony! _Hulk smash puny god!_" Hulk beat craters into the ground beneath himself again, apparently too angry to pay any attention to how much damage he was doing.

"Whoa, whoa," Barton was moving forward, holding up a hand. "Easy there, Hulk. Tony probably doesn't want you installing an express route down up here."

Hulk spared him enough of a glance to make it clear he was not impressed, then snorted and huffed, shuffling about the roof in that gorilla-like way he did, as though still looking for Loki.

"What does he mean, 'steal Tony'?" Natasha asked, as Steve finally managed to get his legs under himself and get to his feet, wincing at the aches and pains as he did so.

"Loki...Loki just kidnapped him..." he muttered, rubbing at his temple with two fingers, glancing around and locating his shield, laid out near the edge of the roof, and headed over to retrieve it.

"Wh-why would he do that?" She looked to Thor, who was holding his hammer tightly, turning it over and over in his hand, looking pained.

"I...I do not know," the Asgardian replied in a low voice. "He...may have panicked, may have...felt he gained some advantage from abducting friend Anthony...he..." He put a hand to his forehead, as though suddenly gripped by a rampant headache. "I do not know."

"Thor?" another voice broke in, and the demigod raised his head, looking over to see Dr. Selvig getting to his feet from where he'd taken cover behind the machine, hesitantly stepping out.

"My friend!" Thor responded, nearly giddy, rushing over to grab the man up in what looked like a painful hug. "I am so pleased to see you well again!"

"Good to see you too," Selvig managed to stammer out, sounding breathless, before Thor let him go, patting him on the shoulder. "Um...the Tesseract..." He glanced back at it, where it still rested inside the machine. Steve couldn't help a slight shudder of revulsion at the sight of the thing, aware only after it happened that he'd taken a step away from it.

"We should get that thing somewhere that we can keep it safe if Loki comes back," Barton said, and Steve glanced at him to see he was giving it just as disgusted a look as he imagined he himself was. "Or at least pretend like it's safe, all things considered."

Hulk didn't seem to like that, and growled, slamming his fists back into the ground again, creating two more craters. "_Find Tony!_" he bellowed.

"Hey, hey!" Steve said, moving quickly to get in front of Hulk, holding up his hands. "We're going to look for Tony too, Hulk, don't even worry about that. Loki can't have gotten far. Just settle down, okay, big guy?"

Hulk was still visibly seething, but he at least seemed to be listening, and snorted once more before moving to the edge of the roof, staring down at the damaged city below them. Steve watched warily, afraid for just a second that he might jump off and start rampaging, but instead the green beast just kept moving, along the edge, looking, as though trying to see from there where anything might be an indication of where Loki had gotten off to.

"For the moment, we're needed here," Natasha said, coming over to Steve's side. "We do have to protect the Tesseract, we need to arrange for it's safekeeping before anything else. It won't matter if we do find Stark if someone gets a hold of the cube and opens another hell portal."

Steve sighed, considering that for a bit, then nodded, though honestly, he'd just as soon have forgotten the thing was even still here. But for the moment, they did need to focus on it. It was the cause of all this.

At the same time, something quirked in him over the concept of just abandoning Stark. He didn't know why that seemed to set him off so much, the idea of just passing over a missing companion for the sake of a mission, but-

_Bucky!_

_What was that? _Steve winced, turning away, squinting against the sunlight as he did. It was like a shot had gone off right in his brain, like just for a second, there was wind whipping against his face, a bitter wet cold that seemed like it wanted to poke holes through the skin and burrow deep inside him, a nauseous chill that exploded out from his stomach and spread through every limb, digit, all parts of him, with a force that would have brought him to his knees had it lasted for any longer than a split second. Even as it was, he came to a rather abrupt stop in his movement, feeling as though Hulk had hauled off and decked him one.

"Captain?" he heard Natasha ask, and he shook the moment away, deciding he could spend his own time wondering what that feeling was all about. This was still Avengers time.

"All right. Natasha, where can we put the Tesseract that it'll be safe?"

Natasha shook her head a bit, contemplating the question. "Well, we already saw what Loki could do to the helicarrier. I would have thought it was the safest place in the world."

"Well...what about here?" Barton asked, waving a hand at the building beneath their feet. "Tony's got all kinds of security and robots and...things that could help us monitor. Nowhere's gonna be foolproof, but this way might be the best we can do on short notice."

"But Loki was drawn here," Natasha answered, shaking her head.

"Exactly," Steve interrupted. "He wanted to put on a show, and it blew up in his face. ...literally, at least once." (Barton looked rather proud at that.) "But he just went running away from here as fast as he could. He might not want to come back. Pride thing, you know, not wanting to come back to the scene of his...defeat. He'll want to keep low for a while, at least, and this tower is a big clanging bell drawing attention to him."

"The good captain speaks sensibly," Thor said. "My brother's pride has been gravely wounded, and he will not wish to revisit that. At least not immediately."

"So, we should try to find a vault or something in Tony's house here that will have enough security for the just-in-case," Barton finished, nodding.

Steve turned to where Selvig was standing, nodding to him. "Are you all right, Doctor? Will you be able to help us with moving that thing?"

"O-of course, sir, uh, Captain, uh...yes, I can do that." The old guy seemed awful flustered, but then, considering everything he'd been through...what all of them had been through, that wasn't exactly unexpected. He turned away, looking over the machine, and started to do...something, Steve honestly couldn't say what was happening with the complex-looking equipment.

"All right...let's get a move on with that..." Steve stopped when he heard what sounded like a shuddering growl from the edge of the roof, and looked over at where Hulk had finally settled himself, fingers clenched tightly...and his whole body was quivering, looking as though he were having some sort of mild tremor. Steve hesitated, then carefully moved in front of the others, holding up his shield in preparation. "Hulk? You okay?"

The brute didn't even spare a look backwards as the shivers continued, and then before their eyes, his skin color seemed to be draining out, his musculature fading away, and his hunched posture vaguely straightening. His head hung down limply, and as the bizarre transformation completed, Bruce Banner was crouched there instead, the shredded remnants of pants only barely preserving his dignity as he sort of slumped to the side on the roof. Thor rushed forward quickly, grabbing the man's arm and tugging him away from the edge, just in case, then knelt next to him, frowning. "He seems unwell."

"That's normal," Natasha said softly, rubbing her arm a little. "Changing back from Hulk takes a lot out of him, from what I've heard, usually he's out for a few minutes before he's back up, but he'll be fine."

"I will take him inside to recover," Thor said, and with an ease that displayed his strength, hefted Banner up and over a shoulder, turning and heading back towards the stairwell that stood open on the roof. "I will also seek out clothing for him upon his awakening."

"Uh...you do that, Thor," Steve said, feeling a bit lame at it considering Thor was going to do it regardless. The whole situation had gotten just a touch awkward now...now that the battle was basically over, he was temporarily done being the great leader Captain America and right back at being the ungainly, out-of-time Steve Rogers. Still...there was recovery to be done.

"So...do we have any ideas on how we could track Loki and Stark down?" Steve asked, glancing back to Natasha and Barton.

The redhead shook her head imperceptibly, and Barton seemed to be thinking it over at least. "I...I don't remember enough of what was happening while I was...under his spell," Barton said, a tinge of anger getting into his voice at that. "I think we'd have to leave that to Thor. He's gonna be the only one of us who knows enough about Loki to make any guesses."

Steve sort of sighed, although there was a growl to it that he didn't intend to be there, and he hooked his shield over one shoulder. "Then for now, we need to regroup and decide what our next step is. There's a lot of damage down below, and there's going to be a lot of questions about what happened here."

"Especially the part where a nuke showed up..." Natasha said, looking up at the sky towards where the portal had been earlier, where Stark had...

Steve grimaced when he felt that weird chill again at the memory of standing on the street below, watching Iron Man flying the enormous missile into the portal, disappearing from sight, and the agony of being helpless to do anything when their teammate failed to reappear, as the explosion became evident through the hole in the sky, and having to make the call to close it, leaving him for dead. It had worked out, but it had been one of the more horrifying moments in his life...seeing what the mythical nuclear bomb could actually do, knowing a man he'd accused wrongly of being a selfish cad had just proven him wrong in the worst possible way...

And now even the relief that he'd been okay was gone...because now he wasn't okay anymore. He'd lost a soldier, and at the moment, there was nothing he could do about it. The thought made his insides twist up, but he just shoved those feelings aside...they weren't going to help anything.

"Come on...let's help Dr. Selvig and then go check on Bruce. We'll figure it out from there."


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay on this, real life decided to be bitchy. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait!

( )

Tony already decided a little while ago that he was not crazy about Loki. The current situation wasn't giving him any reason to change his mind on that assessment. The dark-haired prick had already cuffed and gagged him, smacked him around, and now was forcing him to walk through what was, as much as Tony could tell, _the inside of a black hole._ So yeah, Loki? Definitely not on the Christmas card list this year. That was a sure thing.

Not just using the green metal as a gag, either. When Loki had ordered Tony to follow him, Tony had refused, of course. He might be a prisoner someplace that gave him no real hope of any kind of rescue, but that didn't mean he was just going to roll over and give up. Loki was going to regret the instant that he decided Tony Stark was easy prey, damnit.

Tony had snarled as he planted his ass on the ground stubbornly, refusing to move and fully planning to force Loki to carry him. That was the only way Tony was about to go anywhere with the Trickster, he certainly wasn't about to go of his own volition. But then a weird smile had curled across the leaner man's features, and he idly twitched his fingers in Tony's direction, that smile widening as Tony had suddenly felt a fierce pull at his face, as though the flesh itself might come undone. He'd had no option but to scramble to his feet to stop the strange green metal from tearing his jaw off, and if he fell further than a few feet away from Loki, the pull started again.

He was still rather furious, and if not for the fact that he knew he'd be stopped before he could even do so much as throw a punch, he'd have thrown himself at Loki already. But as it was, just for the sake of staying intact, and thanks to the magical bonds, he had no other option beyond quietly trailing behind the demigod and entertaining himself with thoughts of committing unspeakable acts of violence.

There certainly wasn't any scenery to distract himself with. When he thought of this as the inside of a black hole, that was being overly descriptive. This place was a void...even though he was walking, even though he felt the soles of his feet making contact with something each time they came down, the whole place seemed to be literally nothingness. As much as he was enjoying his fantasies of running Loki through with his own ridiculous helmet, a part of his mind that was always dedicated to problem solving was currently mulling this over. A place couldn't be nothingness...it just couldn't, it was impossible. That would make it a vacuum and, while possibly Loki's weird Asgardian magic mojo could keep him going, Tony knew at least his own insides would have boiled out through his eye sockets already. And since they hadn't, then this wasn't a vacuum. Which meant something _had_ to be here. Even though he couldn't detect anything.

Well, that was easy enough to explain, clearly Loki was manipulating him somehow. Physics were what physics were after all, this couldn't be a place full of nothing and not be a vacuum. That just didn't happen after all, not without all kinds of bad things that a human being, even one like him, shouldn't be able to walk through without a hell of a lot of interesting side effects. So there was stuff here, he just couldn't see it. Clearly.

Why exactly Loki didn't want him seeing stuff was another question to be pondered altogether, because as much as he was certain the answer was just "the giant bastard is a psychopath," he didn't want to accept so simplistic an explanation. It was that logical fallacy thing about events having to balance. No one wanted to believe a lone nut with a rifle could kill a president because those things were so vastly unequal from each other that a person's brain literally just flipped the scale over and rejected the idea as patently absurd. The thought that he'd been kidnapped by Loki to be brought here simply because the guy was insane, and not for anything else, was so depressing and infuriating that he just couldn't even deal with it. So there had to be something else to it, ergo, there was a reason why Loki was blocking his line of sight, ergo, he was not walking through an alien geometry that would have broken the mind of anyone who actually tried to comprehend it. Things might be alien, but they were relatively normal, so there was no reason to panic about what might actually be hiding out there where he couldn't see it. No reason at all.

Loki would stop this seemingly worthless marching any time, and he'd do what he'd been doing all this time, start going on about his glorious destiny or his tidings of happy death or whatever it was the guy'd been going on about, he'd tell Tony what was going on, and while Tony would be no less fucked for the knowledge, at least he'd know exactly _how_ he was fucked, which was a slight comfort.

But then Tony started to realize the void wasn't completely empty. He didn't exactly see anything, but he was slowly starting to become aware of...something...out there. He wasn't sure if it was an animal of some kind, or some sort of wind, but it seemed as though there was movement in the blackness. Not quite a rustling of feathers, not quite a brushing of fur or a sliding of skin, not quite...well, anything. He thought he detected movement out of the corners of his eyes, or possibly a tickle or a crawl at the back of his neck or along his arm, and would turn his head to look or flinch towards the sensation to knock it away...but if anything, there was just a ghost of an afterimage, just the faintest hint that there was something that had just been there, close, not quite enough to feel or touch, but moving and looking and examining him, shifting about just enough to avoid his direct gaze, but too curious or perhaps too _interested_ to stay away.

"It would be best to keep your gaze forward, Stark," Loki abruptly said, and the voice after so long walking in complete silence nearly caused Tony to jump straight out of his own skin. "Despite how you might think, we are in fact not alone in this place, and while I can keep us safe from the things that slide through the abyss, I cannot guarantee that your feeble Midgardian mind could survive the strain of attempting to perceive what those things really are."

_Oh God, really?_ Tony rolled his eyes somewhat. _Of course. I'm being walked through Cthulhu's realm and I should not try to see the things Man Was Not Meant To Know. Praise the Dreaded Old Ones._

Of course, even to someone who was as well-versed in denial as Tony Stark, that self-induced sarcasm rang a little hollow. Sure, cosmic horror, at least to him, was nothing more than some stupid literary lark that had more than overstayed it's welcome, and the likes of H.P. Lovecraft had never frightened him because real life was screwed up enough without having to torture himself with the thought of giant monsters of unfathomable existence...but that was before he'd spent a day confronting alien gods from another dimension, fighting weird cyborg monster things pouring through a rip in the sky, and doing this all alongside a fellow scientist with an alterego that made the laws of conservation of energy his bitch.

Short version, within a split second of rolling his eyes at the way Loki made it sound like Yog-Sothoth was shredding around out there, his brain helpfully reminded him that it was entirely possible something like that really _could_ be out there.

If he suddenly found himself walking a little closer behind Loki, that had nothing to do with anything, of course. Even less to do with the fact that he had come to realize that Loki was really walking rather quickly through this space, and had _his_ eyes locked forward, and this was a guy who was strong enough to throw Tony through safety glass with one hand hard enough to shatter it to pieces and had magic good enough to fool his brother who'd known him his entire life. So Tony decided maybe it was a good idea to follow his lead until they were somewhere a little bit less _horrible_.

He told himself it would have been absurd for Loki to kidnap him just to feed him to whatever monsters were here. If Loki wanted him dead, he'd be dead, the guy had been pissed enough at the start that he'd have had a very easy time just snapping Tony's neck in his hands. No no, Loki wanted him for something. No reason to get scared, illogical to get scared. He was needed, he wasn't going to be ripped to pieces by a creature with seven mouths all set inside each other or something like that.

Although that might be quicker.

"Ah, and here we are," Loki spoke up from ahead of him again, and despite the fact that there was absolutely no reason for it, suddenly Tony found himself standing in a place that, rather than being pure pitch darkness, was now solid, shining, nearly blinding white. He hadn't gone through a doorway, or fallen through a portal or a rabbit-hole, or even blinked. One instant, dark, within that same instant, light. Tony looked around at that, turning a full circle, stepping backwards a couple of steps, trying to return to the darkness or find the doorway or at least figure out _what_, but the vast eternity had seemingly just changed color on him for no apparent reason.

_What. The. Fuck._

_Don't ask me, man. I'm every bit as lost on this one as you are._

_This can't be happening. None of this makes sense, nothing makes any goddamned sense. Science is an actual thing...an actual thing that actually works!_

_Go ahead and tell Loki that, because he seems pretty unconcerned with science right now._

Tony turned around to look back at Loki, who was still standing with his back to his victim, seemingly surveying the space. "I realize this is likely not an accommodation that you would find to your taste, Stark, but consider yourself lucky to have it. You will at least be safe from the things which exist in the void."

The giant man turned back to him, that same vaguely insane smile fixed on his face, eyes slightly unfocused and all the more frightening for that, because that implied that he was using all this weird freaky magic shit while _distracted_, or at the very least without concentrating, which meant that Tony very _very_ much did _not_ want to see what it would be like if he were. But even as he had that thought, Loki's gaze turned squarely onto him, and though it was technically physically impossible for Tony's heart to skip beats with the reactor functioning, he guessed that the organ desperately wanted to.

"This being said...you do still have something to fear, Stark. I cannot touch your heart, but I can see it, and you cannot carry out the duty that fate has chosen for you as you stand before me now. There is a power inside you that I have great need of, for both of our sakes."

Tony did blink that time, and that was the guess he was going with for how Loki had gone from being several steps away to right in front of him and grabbing at the green bands on his wrists before Tony even had time to flinch, and god damn but he was tired of the things around him moving at speeds that should have shattered his ear drums with sonic booms but didn't because _fuck physics_ obviously. Still, as soon as he had processed this, he was letting out a muffled scream and trying to pull away, kicking frantically at shins and yanking hard at hands and trying to pull or twist or do anything to get away, but Loki's grip didn't so much as stutter, and the kicks to his legs might as well have been kitten swipes for all they were reacted to.

"There it is, that pride, that need to be free, that desperate yearning for control and domination of your own life." Loki pulled Tony closer with deliberate slowness, feeling the struggles against every inch of movement. "Yet all this is an illusion, the idea that you have ever had any control over your own destiny, especially now with all that you have allowed inside of you. Even your armor, your pride and joy, was only born of a longing for control, for a cling at taking back the freedom you felt denied to you. Everything you do is only the flailing efforts of a child trying to prove himself an adult, never once realizing that true maturity, true joy, will only ever be found in giving in to those long denied inner longings to be ruled."

This guy was absolutely crackers. Not even the good crackers, he was dried up dollar store saltines three weeks past their expiration date. If Tony had been able to form any more of a functioning thought beyond _you're crazy get away from me_ he might have tried to tell Loki that, but with his mouth still locked closed, all he could do was let out muffled screams of rage-fear-panic and keep trying to get away...

"Your previous entrapments granted you far too much freedom, Anthony Edward Stark," Loki growled as pleasantly as an insane power-mad demigod could. "Gave you too much, granted you an excuse to try and claim more and more. I know exactly how to deal with this, exactly how to deal with you. A prison of a design you are intimately familiar with."

Tony had the good sense to be afraid even though he didn't understand that at all. But Loki's grip tightened suddenly on his arms, to the point that he felt it even through the metal, and then he let go, stepping back quickly. Tony was fast to pull away as well, backing up, but quickly becoming aware that the pressure on his arms hadn't decreased...it actually felt as though it were spreading.

He looked to try and figure out what the hell was happening, and his eyes widened when he saw the gold-tipped gauntlets were in motion...no. Not in motion. Growing. The long sleeves of the shirt he was wearing were being eaten by the metal, taken over by it, the feel of fabric giving way to that of cool metal inching it's way up his skin. He couldn't help the panicked reaction, reaching up to try and grab at it and claw it away, push it off of him, something, but with each centimeter of growth, the metal melded itself against his skin, becoming as snug and as close fitting as the gauntlets had been to start.

_Oh God, no. No, no. No no no no no no NO NO NO!_ Tony kept wildly flailing at the metal as it had crept past his elbows, up onto his shoulders, steadily devouring his clothes as it went. Now and again the green metal left a ring of gold...just above and below his elbows, at his shoulders, and now it..._oh God it's coming up my neck get it off get it off get it off!_

"Do not bother with your struggles, Stark," Loki intoned with amusement, watching the man fight desperately to try and stop the metal as it began to enrobe his torso as well as crawling along his throat, slithering to join with the gag and wrapping partially up the back of his head. "Though you may refuse to accept it at first, this will finally grant you the ultimate freedom of pure subjugation."

Tony couldn't even listen to him, too busy flailing and pawing at the green patterns shattering their way randomly down his body, to his legs, still leaving gold rings at points...his chest, his waist, twice around each thigh...despite trying to dig his fingers into it, to pull his clothing free or rip it away before it could all be overtaken, but it was inexorable, just taking everything down to his shoes and transforming them into more of the pattered green and gold metal. He was enveloped from his feet to the base of his skull, the last bit to be taken was his hands...leaving him unable to do anything but watch as his fingers were swallowed up as well, though they and his palms were completely encased in the gold rings rather than green.

He had been terrified for a second that whatever mystic voodoo was in this metal that was causing it to eat his clothes might try to eat his reactor as well, especially when a gold circle appeared around the glowing blue light, but aside from his panicked breathing from the desperate exertion, everything in his chest still seemed to be functioning normally. In fact, despite the lack of any of his gadgets or rockets or other additions, this whole get-up looked remarkably similar to one of his suits...except for the fact that he knew how to get his suits off. This? Tony had no clue if this stuff even came off at all.

Also, he could still talk in his suits, as opposed to this, with the metal mask still flush to his face no matter how much he tried to pry any of it free. If he could talk, he'd have liked to ask Loki all sorts of pertinent questions about why he was wearing this now, what the hell was wrong with Loki, did he need more drugs or less drugs because clearly he was in an _altered state_, but all he could really manage with his lips sealed were faint grunts and groans.

And then, naturally, it got worse. Tony couldn't stop a scream again when his body was suddenly slammed into a ramrod-straight posture, back straightened, arms at his sides, nearly like a statue of a man, and no matter how hard he writhed, he couldn't move so much as one little finger. He didn't stop trying, even as his head was tilted back slightly, aimed so that he would be looking right into Loki's eyes as the demigod walked closer, sneering down at him.

"I have matters with which I must now attend, Stark...but you are safe here, no one can reach you but I. And so long as your new..." Here he chuckled, reaching out to trace the edge of the metal covering Tony's mouth, despite the quickened breathing and that Tony squeezed his eyes closed in anticipation of further blows like before. "...your new _armor_ is intact, here you shall remain, unchanging, unmoving, until such time as I return to grant you back a measure of control. In the while till, take the opportunity to ponder whether or not your beloved sense of freedom is worth the fight."

He flicked his finger across the metal gag, leaving Tony standing there frozen, unable to do much more than move his eyes, not even to incline his head from it's position as Loki strode away across the white barrens. Tony screamed after him, even as it was muffled still, thrashing and kicking and fighting with all his power and unable to do anything but howl uselessly when Loki, just as quickly and unexplainably as anything else that had happened before, vanished from his sight, leaving him completely isolated and alone, locked up tight with nothing and no one but the blank and his own mind.

_Stop it, don't, don't leave me here!_ he wanted to cry, but even if his pride would have allowed him to stoop to begging like that, it wouldn't have mattered. Not a single word could escape him, not a motion or a sound beyond the ragged, hyperventilating breaths getting through his nose.

He spent several minutes, or at least what felt like several minutes, in what would have been wild, contorting seizures, bucking and pushing and flailing to the full capability of his strength, but the green and gold metal held as firm as a clamp, absolutely nothing coming of his furious efforts but running out of breath and feeling sweat coming from his forehead into his eyes. He moaned in frustration when some dripped into his eyes, unable to rub them to try and help the burn that came from it.

He tried thinking of something, eyes darting around for anything, any minute detail or the slightest crack in the illusion or the smallest sign of anything he could use, but even on that, finally Tony had to admit defeat, sagging in his full-bodied cage. He was stuck and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it but wait to see if Loki came back...or die of thirst, whichever happened first.

At the moment, Tony honestly couldn't decide which outcome he was hoping for.


End file.
